That picture up there…that’s my lunch today. That shit is not Instagram or Pinterest worthy they at all.
But y’know what? Witty lettuce left over from last nights dinner is ok!
This is real. This is life. This is what’s for lunch today.
And I fucking refuse to feel shitty about it because it’s not perfectly styled and prepped to be photographed.
The pursuit of perfection robs us of happiness.
Trying to emulate the images that we scroll through is a recipe for fucking misery – whether it’s about food or our bodies or relationships or our parenting.
Fuck all the fakery.
I prefer real. Messy. Imperfect. HUMAN. HAPPY.
Who wants to join me?